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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27855238">Sloppy Seconds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tapewormprincess/pseuds/tapewormprincess'>tapewormprincess</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>South Park</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>"bad boy" craig, (he's just depressed with anger issues), (tw) some physical abuse, Bittersweet, Bully Craig Tucker, Daddy Kink, Dom Craig Tucker, Genderfluid Kenny McCormick, Lots of Angst, Smut, forbidden-ish, golden showers, hatefuck, sub kenny mccormick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:47:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27855238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tapewormprincess/pseuds/tapewormprincess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm fucked up just like you are,<br/>and you're fucked up just like me."</p><p> </p><p>When Kenny came out as genderfluid, he never suspected he'd be a punching bag for Craig Tucker, the school's notorious gay kid. But life is full of surprises, including Kenny's crush on his own tormentor.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kenny McCormick/Craig Tucker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Delinquency</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know,<br/>everything that shine ain't always gonna be gold.<br/>I'll be fine once I get it, I'll be good."<br/>- Kid Cudi / Pursuit Of Happiness</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig bit the end of his pencil anxiously, bouncing his leg up and down as he glanced up at the clock. He was having severe nicotine withdrawals, and the cold classroom wasn't helping at all with his shakes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sped through the test answers as quick as he could, finishing as soon as the bell rang. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Thank fuckin' god," he sighed. Craig was in a rush to get out, throwing the test papers down on his teacher's desk as he ran by. But before he could reach the door, Mr. Garrison called his name.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Craig, can you stay for a second?"</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Ooh," Billy Miller mocked, slinging the strap of his book bag over his shoulder. "Gonna suck Garrison's dick for a better test score, Tucker?"</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Yea," Craig scoffed. "Right after I get done fucking your dad." </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Ouch." Billy laughed, taking a step backwards, towards the door. "Meet me by the lockers for lunch, asshole. And don't be late."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig waited nervously, with hands in his pockets, for Billy and the rest of the students to leave the room. Once they were all gone, he turned his attention back to a frustrated Garrison.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Really?" the jaded older man sighed, as he rested his head in his hands. "You're hanging out with those dumbasses now?"</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Those dumbasses are my friends." Craig deadpanned.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Uh-huh," Mr. Garrison sat up straight, and tossed down a graded test with Craig's name on it. The score was an A+, in bright red ink. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You made me stay after class for passing?" Craig asked, mockingly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Do you know how many colleges are waiting for a kid like you, Craig? A lot. You are the smartest student in my class, and you're wasting your time hanging around a bunch of delinquents. You're eighteen now, this year is going to determine your future."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Yea, well," Craig picked up his graded test and glanced over it, before throwing it back on the desk. "I don't really think you're the best guy to be giving out life advice. And besides that, I highly doubt I'm Harvard material."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was already reaching for the door again, when Mr. Garrison stopped him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I never said Harvard," he scoffed. "That's generous. But there's so many good colleges you could go to. You could finally leave this podunk town, does that not interest you at all?"</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With one hand on the door, turning the knob, Craig looked back with an exhausted expression. "Old man, I could not give less of a shit."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He closed the door behind him and made his way down the hall, where his best friend of four years, Billy Miller, stood slumped against the lockers. "Took you long enough in there. Were you actually blowing him?"</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Nah, he just wanted to talk grades. Got a light?"</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Billy handed the lighter over to Craig, but not before pausing mid-exchange with a smirk. "Grades? That's like the fourth time this year. Looks like you might be repeating senior year, Tucker."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Yea," Craig laughed halfheartedly, as he took the light.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He would never admit to Billy or the rest of the guys that he was actually passing, let alone tell them about the letters from Berkley on his nightstand.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Billy and Craig walked around the side of the building, taking long drags off their cigarettes as they waited patiently for the bell to ring. The ground was still damp from melted snow, but the weather wasn't as cold as it had been, and he was thankful for that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Hey, Billy?" Craig asked, looking straight ahead with a stoic expression. "You thought about college yet?"</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No?" Billy laughed, kicking rocks. "It's not like I'm going to get into one anyways."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Do you really want to be stuck here forever, though? Like, you don't get scared at the idea of living in South Park for the rest of your life? Or wonder if there's some place or some person out there for you?"</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Dude, that's gotta be the gayest shit you've ever said. And you fuck dudes, so that's sayin' something."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig sighed and took another hit off his cigarette. "Yea, sorry. I got high earlier," he lied.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Well in that case, you wanna skip class and go to Stark's?" Billy asked. "I heard some of the other guys are gonna be there, and they're bringing beer."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Nah," Craig exhaled the smoke from his lungs one last time and tossed his cigarette to the ground, stepping on it with dirty converse. "I got somewhere else I gotta go."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Huh," Billy made a clicking sound with his tongue and stuck the lighter back in his pocket. "Alright, well I guess I'll see you later, man. You and your gay ass little picket fence daydream."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig laughed nervously, but felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. In a way a part of him did want that, or maybe he just craved stability. But he wasn't getting either anytime soon, so he figured there was no use in dwelling on it. Because that's all that daydream would ever be for him: a <em>joke</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He walked behind the back of the building, glancing around the parking lot for his car, but spotted it within five seconds. It wasn't hard to miss, after all. It was the only car there covered in rust. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">"Ah, old reliable." he sighed, swinging the car door open, as his side view mirror came crashing down.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">"Or, old manageable, I guess."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Snow began falling from the sky again, as Craig drove slowly down the highway. With every sharp turn, the car made a clunking sound, until eventually it gave out all together. Smoke poured from the hood, before coming to a complete stop.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No, no, no.." Craig panicked, "Don't do this, c'mon." </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pressed on the gas one more time, as the car gave it's final push and then seemingly collapsed. Frustrated, Craig began hitting his head against the steering wheel with eyes shut tight.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Great, guess I'll just walk there."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He got out the car, slamming the door shut behind him, but instantly regretted it, as it detached from the hinges and broke off.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You gotta be fucking kiddin' me." he mumbled.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With an increasingly colder snowstorm approaching, Craig walked down the edge of the highway, wincing from the wind. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By the time Craig had reached Hell's Pass Hospital, his clothes were covered in melted flakes of ice, and his ears and nose were stinging.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As he reached the front doors, an ambulance drove up quickly, nearly running him over in the process. He jumped back just in time to avoid getting hit, while watching the truck swerve into the parking lot. "Great, I missed getting hit by a millisecond. Isn't this just my lucky day?"</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once the truck had came to a halt, two nurses rushed outside. "Intense trauma to the head," one said, opening the back doors. "Victim was ran over four times."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Huh," Craig thought to himself, feeling a bit guilty for his convenience. "Guess I really was the lucky one."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Male, late teens, blonde," he heard the nurse speak into a radio. "Let's get him out the truck."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig didn't bother sticking around to see the torn apart victim of vehicular manslaughter, and instead headed straight up to the third floor. He was already late as it was.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once inside, he felt every nerve in his body tense up. He hated this section of the hospital, and hated himself even more, for his disdain towards it. </span>
  <span class="s1">The smell of chemicals lingered in the air on this unit, and was always full of people spending, what they feared would be, their last few moments with loved ones.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig's room was at the end of the hall, and no matter how many times he's been here, his hands were always sweaty when he reached for the door. He pushed it opened slowly, face going white at the sight in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked more frail than last week, and her hair had thinned out to practically nothing from the chemo.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Hey, mom."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"There's my boy, I was wondering if you were coming by today." </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Always do." he spoke softly, pulling his chullo hat off his head, as he clutched it in his hands.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Yea, and it wouldn't hurt your father or sister to come see me, either." she complained, coughing weakly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As much as Craig wanted to agree, he knew the chances of them visiting were slim. Their abstinence didn't come from a place of disinterest though, but instead, fear. They hated seeing her this way.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Thomas rarely left the house since she had been diagnosed, and Tricia numbed the pain by staying out late and getting drunk with sophomore girls. They were weak, and Craig prided himself on being the one to handle it the easiest.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had always been tough and unaffected before. Now, he had a reason to be. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I'm sure they'll come visit when they're ready." he pulled up a chair next to her bed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Well it better be soon, doc told me I only have a few weeks left."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"That's not true." Craig shook his head. "I'm not going to believe that."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Well, you should, because it <em>is </em>true." she mumbled. "I'm not getting any better. I'm tired of being here, I'm tired of being in this bed. If I could, I'd ask them to pull the plug now."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig bit the inside of his cheeks as he attempted to hold back tears. It was seldom for him to get upset, and now definitely wasn't the time to be. He needed to be unaffected, for her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Don't say that shit. You're gonna get better. And dad and Tricia will be here to see you soon." he reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. "I promise."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Silence filled the room for several seconds, before Laura scrunched up her nose. "You smell like cigarettes. Have you been smoking?"</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pulled his hand away hesitantly, and stammered. "No, of course not. It's probably just from the guys or something."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You know if you smoke, you'll end up like me, don't you?"</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig sighed and stood up, looking down at the weak woman below him. "Yea, I know."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He reached for the door again with shaky hands, as guilt continued to eat away at his stomach lining.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Craig," Laura spoke softly, catching his attention. "I'm proud of you."</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He smiled weakly, gripping the doorknob so hard that his knuckles turned white. <em>"</em></span>
  <span class="s1"><em>Well, at least that makes one of us."</em> he thought.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry for the delay in writing, I've been stressed about the holidays. but I plan on making this my longest book, with a lot more stuff this time :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Torment Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"think it's unfair, your situation.<br/>you say I'm changing,<br/>sorry I didn't know I had to stay the same.<br/>can we talk about this later?<br/>your voice is driving me insane."<br/>- the front bottoms / be nice to me</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW // transphobic slurs + violence</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny ran through the alleyway, hiding behind a dumpster as his heart raced out of his chest. He could hear his own pulse, and tried to steady his breathing, to avoid being caught by his group of tormentors.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Come out, come out, wherever you are, tranny." the boys called mockingly, one of them swinging a baseball bat loosely.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny bit his lip to hold back from speaking, but his smart ass mouth got the best of him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Y'know, the transphobic shit makes you sound super fuckin' gay." Kenny stood up quickly, gaining a head rush.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The second the boys caught sight of the blonde and starting running towards him, Kenny grabbed a handful of rocks and chucked it at the group.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Most were missed shots, but one large rock hit Billy Miller in the head, causing the entire group, along with Kenny, to pause in fear.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn't enough to knock him down, but as blood trickled down Billy's forehead, Kenny felt his stomach sink. For the eighth time that week, he saw his life flash before his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You're gonna get it now, McCormick." Billy snarled. "I'll give you to the count of three. And if I catch you, you're fucking dead."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny didn't bother sticking around for the countdown, before he was running down the road, kicking up dust behind him. He could already feel his lungs giving out by the time he reached the edge of town. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A last minute decision, Kenny headed for Stark's Pond, almost feeling secure. It wasn't until he saw the rest of Billy's group walk up, that he knew he made the worst mistake. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course Billy's friends would be here, Stark's Pond was their Thursday spot, after all. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Please, not again." Kenny pleaded, shaking. Despite being a literal superhero on the side, the blonde felt trapped surrounded by men twice his weight and height. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fourth grade Mysterion could've easily taken on a group of angry men, but twelfth grade Kenny was small, malnourished, and honestly, having the worst time of his life.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You know what, I think I'll be nice today." Billy said snidely. "I'm not gonna kill you, I'll just make you wish you were fucking dead."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He grabbed the blonde by his hair and threw him to the ground, as Billy and the rest of his friends proceeded to kick the shit out of Kenny. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By the time they were done with him, Kenny's ribs were bruised and he was coughing up blood. For the first time in his life, death couldn't come soon enough.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All the sudden, police sirens blared in the distance, the sound getting increasingly close to Stark's Pond.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Shit, should we bail?" </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What the fuck are we supposed to do with Kenny?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Leave him here." Billy said, kicking him one more time. "It's not our issue anymore." </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Two boys grabbed the cooler full of beer, while the rest scattered, until Stark's Pond was empty, minus the broken kid on the ground.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Unfortunately for him, the police weren't even driving towards Stark's. Kenny heard them make a left turn, the sound disappearing. Not that they would've been much help, anyways.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was left alone to rot. And he didn't even have a gun to put himself out of his misery. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">_____</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig tapped away at his broken phone screen, as he sat on the bleachers, with headphones in his ears.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He could hear muffled speaking through the music, but didn't realize the words were directed towards him, until a dodgeball came hurling his way and hit him in the knee.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He took one earphone out, looking down at Mr. Mackey.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Now, Craig, you know you have to participate in gym, m'kay? I know this is senior year and all, but it's still mandatory and-"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I have an excuse." he said, blowing a bubble with his gum, as he reached into his pocket. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He handed the crumbled paper over to his guidance counselor, who looked it over with narrowed eyes and adjusted glasses.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"M'kay, well alright then." he handed the piece of notebook paper back to Craig.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had been writing his own excuses to get out of class for months now, and no one seemed to notice, or care. His mother may have caught one of the worst diseases, but at least he could milk the situation for a few more weeks.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shoved the paper back into his pocket and was about to hit play on his music again, when he saw no other than Kenny McCormick walking up the bleacher steps, with an excuse in-hand as well.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">From the looks of it, though, his was well deserved. He was covered in bruises and scratches, and he looked like he hadn't slept much or showered, either.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What the hell happened to you?" Craig asked, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Your little boyfriend is what happened to me." Kenny spat. "Him and the rest of your group beat the shit out of me."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't quite feel remorse, but he was glad that he wasn't there to join in this time. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You look like shit."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Thanks," Kenny scoffed. "I feel like shit."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The silence between them was loud, and awkwardly bitter. Yet for some reason, Kenny still thought it would be a good idea to sit right next to the raven haired boy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Woah, what the fuck are you doing?" Craig scooted away from the blonde quickly, as if they were germ-ridden.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Sitting down?" Kenny retorted. But the second the words left his lips, they began to quiver, tears forming in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I just don't want to be alone </span>
  <span class="s1">if they come back."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Well, I can't help with you that." Craig said bitterly. "If you need a buddy, go talk to Butters or something."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"But you know how it feels." Kenny's voice began to break. "You understand."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No, I don't." Craig scoffed. "Just because neither of us are straight, doesn't mean I'm anything like you."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny bit the inside of his cheek, eyes stinging from lack of sleep and dried tears. "Yea, you're right. You're not anything like me. Because it's easy for you. When you came out as gay, no one gave a shit. They praised you for being the token gay kid. But when I struggle with my sexuality or gender, I'm the target for harassment. And it's bullshit."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig sighed and looked down at his shoes, planning his words carefully. "Look, I'm sorry you get the shit beat out of you everyday. But maybe if you just did a better job at hiding it, you wouldn't get hurt so bad?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Okay, maybe he didn't plan those words long enough.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"So what you're saying is, if I don't want to get hate-crimed every day, I just have to.. go back in the closet?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Not go back in the closet," Craig tried to explain. "Just maybe, tone it down a bit, y'know? Like, chill out with wearing dresses and makeup all the time."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You want me to stop wearing my dresses?" Kenny asked.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Truthfully speaking, Craig didn't. He actually enjoyed seeing Kenny wear them, for other reasons. But thinking with his other head wasn't going to solve the situation at hand.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I'm just saying it could benefit you, in the long run."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"The only thing that's going to benefit me is not having the shit beat out of me for existing. And it'll be a cold day in hell before I stop dressing the way I do."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Suit yourself." Craig shrugged. Gym was almost over, and Craig was itching for a smoke break.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As soon as the bell rang, Craig was shoving earphones into his pockets and slinging his bookbag over his shoulder. He ran down the bleacher steps and headed for the exit door on the side, that led to the back of the school.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When the cold air hit his face, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. He reached for the cigarette and lighter in his hoodie pocket, thanking god for a second alone.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That second didn't last though, before Kenny was outside too, standing close by like a lost puppy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Dude, seriously, can you fuck off?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I told you I don't want to be alone." Kenny shivered from the cold, hands in his pockets. "You're friends with them, they won't hurt me if you're around."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Look, I'm not you're savior, alright?" Craig walked away from the blonde, regaining his personal space. "They'll beat the shit out of you regardless, because they're my friends and you aren't."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"We could be friends, though." Kenny followed right behind him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No, we can't." Craig spun around, yelling. "We aren't friends, we will never be friends, so get that shit through your easy-bake oven head, and leave me the fuck alone."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tossed his cigarette to the ground, not bothering to finish it all the way, as he stomped out the flame. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"When did you start hating me so much?" Kenny asked softly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"That's a stupid question."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No, it's a genuine question." Kenny sighed, exasperated. "When did you start hating me? You've helped me before."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Memories from fifth grade that Craig had locked away came flooding back.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">____</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Ready for takeoff?" Craig asked himself, in a makeshift astronaut suit.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Space-man Craig, ready for takeoff." he spoke back, before looking through a telescope he made himself, with duct tape, cardboard, and a magnifying glass.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He scanned the area through the telescope, pretending to view planets, but the actual sight caught his attention instead.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny McCormick was running like his life depended on it, and heading straight towards Craig's backyard.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Before he could even wonder why, the small boy had already squeezed his way through the gap in Craig's fence, and was running towards the treehouse ladder.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The second Kenny reached the first step, Craig snatched the ladder back up inside the treehouse, knocking the other kid down flat on his back, as he stared up with pleading eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Craig, please," he begged, looking around the yard anxiously. "You have to let me up, they're gonna kill me."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Piss off, I'm not falling for one of you and Cartman's games."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"This isn't a game, Craig. I'm serious. They're gonna kill me, you gotta help." his mouth was still muffled from his parka, but his words were loud and clear. And if that wasn't enough to convince the stoic boy, he could tell from the tears streaming down Kenny's face that he was being genuine.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sighing heavily, Craig released his grip on the ladder, letting it fall down to the ground, as Kenny climbed up it quickly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once inside, Kenny pulled the ladder back up and immediately ran into Craig's arms. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." his muffled words of admiration leaving Craig's brain a scattered mess.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Yea, whatever." he said, pushing Kenny away gently.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny spun around the treehouse, taking in all the drawings and d-i-y inventions. "Holy shit," Kenny's eyes locked on the telescope. "Can you actually see out this thing?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Hey, be careful with that!" Craig adjured. "It's not a toy."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny still proceeded to grab the telescope, but a bit more gently, per requested.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What do you see?" Craig asked, after a few seconds of silence.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Nothing."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Is that a good thing?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny turned around and unzipped his parka, just enough to show his face. His missing tooth added character to his smile, and his cheeks were still flushed from running. "A very good thing."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny spent the next few hours sitting on the floor of Craig's treehouse, as the two played card games and waited for the time to pass.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig always wondered what Kenny was running from, or what would've happened to Kenny if he hadn't let him in the treehouse. But at the time, he was just glad he did.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">____</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Are you not going to answer my question?" Kenny asked, trembling from the cold and fear. "Why do you hate me so much?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I don't hate you, Kenny." Craig stepped closer, leaning down so he was face to face with the blonde. "For the last time, I just want you to get the fuck out my way."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Guide To Giving Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"never thought that i could fall,<br/>guess i never really thought at all.<br/>sick of being told you just gotta wait for it<br/>what am i waiting for?<br/>i’m just getting old and getting bored."<br/>- Mel Bryant &amp; the Mercy Makers / Never Thought</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tw - homophobic slurs, violence</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig stared straight ahead at his garage door, with tired eyes and both hands on the wheel. He pressed on the gas a bit, just long enough to hear the car make a stuttering sound, before shutting down completely.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Great."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Two hundred bucks down the drain, his car was unfixable at this point.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He opted for walking instead, despite the cold. Music blasted through the his earphones, keeping him distracted from the painfully harsh wind and snow.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He missed his car, but he didn't mind walking, either. As long as he wasn't stuck inside or presenced by others, he was fine. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But of course, the universe always had a way of making Craig's life more inconvenient. And more often than not, Kenny ended up being the reason.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Today was not an exception.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Hey, I didn't know you walked to school too!"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I don't." Craig deadpanned, glaring ahead and walking faster.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Kinda seems like you are to me," Kenny said breathlessly, as he jogged to keep up.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"My car's broke to shit right now, that's the only reason I'm walking today."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"My dad's a pretty good mechanic, maybe he can fix it?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Like there's any way in hell I'd let that meth-head fix my car. I'll be fine, just leave me alone."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny stayed behind for a few minutes, and Craig almost thought he had gotten rid of him, until the blonde caught back up. "We could walk to school together then. Y'know, so you won't be so alone?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What part of <em>'leave me alone'</em> do you not understand?" Craig groaned. "Hanging out with you is the last thing I'd want to do."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Why are you so against the idea of us being friends?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Because you're annoying, and we have nothing in common. And before you use my sexuality as a crutch, or give me some backhanded compliment about my family's financial status, those things aren't exactly shoo-ins for a friendship."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Okay fine, so maybe we're not that much alike." Kenny put his hands up in defense. "But why is that an issue? Have you never heard the saying 'opposites attract'?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Opposites attract is a shitty movie trope. And this conversation is over with."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny stayed behind again, watching as Craig took several steps forward, before calling out after him. "Only someone who watches movies with those tropes would know that!"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig didn't bother responding, or even turning around, and instead just stuck up his middle finger to the blonde. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"See you around!" Kenny yelled again, voice dripping with sarcasm.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Doubtful!"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After getting rid of the blonde, Craig decided on skipping school, and walked back through town instead, entering a little smoke shop. The sign on the door read 21+, but Craig had already perfected his lying techniques.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His logic was that no one would card you or ask for your age, if you entered the shop calmly and quickly. Most days this worked, but today seemed to be an unlucky shit-fest.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"ID please?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Sorry, I left mine at the house."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The woman behind the counter glared up from her magazine, and grabbed the pack of cigarettes and rolling paper that Craig laid on the counter.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No ID, no business. Get lost, kid."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just as he was getting ready to leave in a cloud of embarrassment, Jimbo Kern walked in. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Oh, hey Craig. I didn't know you shopped here."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You know this kid?" the woman at the register nodded over at the stoic boy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Yea, yea. I know him. He used to be friends with my nephew."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>"Not true,"</em> Craig thought. <em>"But I'll take it."</em></span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Is he legal?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Yea, of course he's legal. Man, you kids are growing up so fast these days. It's insane."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig suppressed a smirk, and paid for his items quickly, before running out the store. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In Jimbo's defense, he probably didn't have any idea what the legal age of smoking was nowadays, but either way, he saved Craig's ass, and that definitely bumped him up on Craig's "tolerable people" list. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a smoke shop bag in one hand, and his phone in the other, Craig checked the time and decided that going to school wasn't worth the effort today. He opted for going back home instead, where he could hopefully enjoy some actual alone time.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dragging his feet, Craig walked upstairs and threw himself down on the bed while tossing the smoke shop bag on the floor. News played behind him on the television, as a news anchor reported on yet another death this week. Apparently, some kid was held at gunpoint right outside of school campus. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He didn't care to look up and see this weeks killing victim, so he buried his face into the bedsheets and used the remote to turn the TV off instead. "Here's to another lousy morning." he mumbled.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He could hear the wind outside blowing harshly, as trees slapped against his window, and snow fell to the ground in forms of melting puddles.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Still laying on top of his blankets, Craig closed his eyes and decided to nap instead. He was exhausted, and it was only the start of a long dreadful day.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">___</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Craig, wake up, you jackass." </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig opened his eyes slowly, before squinting and closing them shut tightly. "Can you turn the light off? It's giving me a headache."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No, get up. Now. We need to talk."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Talk about what?" he groaned, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"We need to talk about your grades," Thomas said through gritted teeth, yanking the blanket from underneath his son.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"What the hell was that for?" Craig sat up </span> <span class="s1">quickly, irritated. "And what about my grades? I'm doing fine."</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Your grade scores are fine, but you are not." Thomas tossed down a piece of paper into Craig's lap. "You're missing too many days."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig rubbed his eyes and looked over the piece of paper that was thrown to him. It was a letter from the truancy office, stating that if he missed any more days he could be fined, or even worse, go to jail.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Technically the letter stated Juvenile detention, but Craig was a legal adult now, which meant his sentencing would be a bit more harsh, if it came to that.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I don't want to see you skip another day this school year. Do you understand me?" </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Yea," Craig sighed, crumbling up the paper and throwing it into a trash can across the room.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I'm not joking, Craig. You need to be taking this shit seriously, it's important."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I know," he looked up at his dad, exhausted. "I understand."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Good. Glad we're on the same track then."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Thomas slammed the door shut behind him as he left, and Craig rolled back over, pulling the covers over his head. He could hear the TV playing downstairs, and from the feel of sweat on his skin and the dim bedroom lighting, he figured it was around 6pm.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No point in getting up when the day had already been wasted, so he went back to sleep.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">____</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig woke up at eight the next morning with a pounding headache and a bitter taste in his mouth. His hair was messy and he was feeling extra groggy, as he reached for his phone to see what he had missed since falling asleep.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As soon as he unlocked his phone, he felt his throat close up at the 30+ missed texts. Most of them were from girls he'd never give a chance to, boys who thought they had a chance, or his group of friends who were more trouble than they were worth. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He checked Billy's messages first, which was a string of texts ranging from annoyance, concern, and clear alcoholism.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1"> <em><span class="u">8:09 pm</span> Where r u?</em> </span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1"><em><span class="u">11:54 pm</span></em> R u sleeping all day again? lol</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1"><em><span class="u">1:52 am</span></em> If ur depressed u need to talk to someone.</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1"><em><span class="u">1:53 am</span></em> Not me tho</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1"><span class="u"><em>3:48 am</em></span> [image attached] Bebes throwing another party tomorrow night. Don't be asleep again</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig ran his hand down his face in frustration, before sighing and typing out a simple <em>"Ok."</em></span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Billy called Craig immediately after reading the text, his words still slurring a bit from the end of the other line. "So that's a yes to the party?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Yea, sure." Craig droned. "What else do I have to do besides sleep?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Later that night, Craig took a shower and drenched himself in cheap cologne, before getting dressed and grabbing the house keys. He didn't bother dressing too nice, and the most expensive cologne wouldn't have been able to mask the scent of cigarettes lingering on his clothes. Even the shower was more for wasting time than it was for compliments.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He trudged downstairs, heading straight for the door, but stopped in his tracks when Thomas cleared his throat from the kitchen table.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Where the hell are you going?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"To a party."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Huh," Thomas made a clicking sound with his tongue as he adjusted the newspaper in his hands. "So you don't have time for school, but you have time to go to a party?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Yup."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His sarcasm was a bitter defense to his father's criticism, but deep down, he knew that he did have a point. He could tell his father the truth, that he didn't actually want to attend these type of things, but at the same time, he'd rather be there, than stuck in this cold empty house.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn't even a home anymore, just a resting place. And hardly a good one.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Thomas shrugged and looked back down at his paper, figuring there was no point in arguing with his son. He learned years ago that Craig did what Craig wanted, and he couldn't really change that.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Just stay safe, okay?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig bit the inside of his cheek as he reached for the door, a weighted feeling on his chest. The look on his father's face was all too familiar. "Yea, I will. I promise."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">____</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Bebe, I can't go downstairs. Billy and Craig and all of those other assholes are gonna be down there."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Calm down, girl, jeez. I'm not gonna let you go down there looking stupid. I have this really cute pink dress I want you to wear, It's definitely your color. You're gonna look so fuckin' hot in it and-"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Bebe!" Kenny grabbed his friend's arm before she could pull the dress out of her closet. "Thanks for the offer, but looking hot is the reason why I'm getting harassed in the first place. If I go downstairs wearing a dress, I might as well have a big flashing sign over my head saying <em>'hit me'</em>!"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Honey," Bebe frowned, cupping Kenny's face in her hands. "They aren't going to hurt you. They're probably gonna be way too busy getting shitfaced to even recognize you. I promise. Just have a good time tonight, kay?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Whatever," Kenny sighed sadly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I just don't get why you invited them."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I didn't," Bebe scoffed. "But I don't exactly have a bodyguard ready to throw them out either, babe. If they show up, I can't really stop them."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"If you can't stop them from coming in, then how are you going to stop them from hurting me?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Because," Bebe placed her hands on Kenny's shoulders, leaning down so she was eye level with the other blonde. "If I see them harassing you, I'll tase their fucking dicks off."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny smirked, a temporary sense of relief washing over him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Now c'mon, put on the dress so I can do your makeup."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">___</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Craig! Over here!" Billy called out to his best friend.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig made his way through the crowd and into the kitchen, where Billy was pouring himself shots. "Here, take one."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No thanks, I'm not really in a drinking mood."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"They're not for you, dumbass." Billy laughed. "Go hand 'em to some twink. You might get a lil lucky tonight."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You aren't serious, are you?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Billy scoffed. "What? It's just a little liquid courage to help loosen 'em up, that's all. They'll still be awake when we fuck. For the most part."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig clenched his jaw shut and stuck his hands back in his pockets, shaking his head. "Yea, I think I'll have to pass again. I prefer fucking people who are, y'know, actually interested in me."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Suit yourself, man. I'm getting laid tonight." </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Billy walked off with four shot glasses, searching the room for anyone he deemed worthy. It was a sickening thing to watch, but thankfully, he never ended up getting lucky anytime he tried before.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig scanned the room to see who all had showed up, and his eyes immediately locked on the messy haired blonde across the room. His ex, Tweek Tweak.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig and Tweek had broken up sometime in middle school, and while things didn't end on bad terms, the two weren't exactly close anymore, either.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They'd send each other the occasional <em>"Happy bday"</em> text, or wave at one another in the hallway, but that was the most interaction they've had since seventh grade.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He contemplated on the idea of going over to him and saying hello, but if he remembered correctly, Tweek was in a new relationship now. And regardless of the intentions, he didn't want to cause a dent in Tweek's new, happier life.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">Checking the kitchen for drinks, he felt nauseous at the amount of spilled liquor everywhere. <span class="s1">He hated being home, but he almost hated being at parties just as much. They were nothing but a cesspoolof drunken high schoolers, old friends with unsalvageable reconnections, and as he looked up at the front door, apparently North Park guys.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">North Park was a prestigious private school a few miles away from South Park, where almost every resident lived in a wealthy gated community. Why they chose to crash every South Park party was unsure, but Craig was willing to bet it was because their rich parents would never let them throw one like this on their own.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bebe walked downstairs, with Kenny following close behind, but she stopped when she saw the North Park guys walk in.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Are you fucking kidding me? Not these douchebags, again."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Nice party you got here, rednecks." the guy leading the crowd said. "Where's the alcohol?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He walked into the kitchen, and smiled deviously at the raven haired boy at the bar. "Well, if it isn't Craig Tucker. Everyone's favorite fag."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"That's me." Craig said sardonically.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Didn't expect to see you here."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I was actually getting ready to leave."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"That's too bad," the North Park boy said, placing a hand on Craig's shoulder and pushing him back down in his seat. "I think you should stay a bit."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig roughly removed the boys hand from his shoulder and stood up, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket, and placing it between his teeth. "No thanks. I might vomit if I stay around you guys for more than five minutes."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What the fuck did you just say to me?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig turned back around, cigarette still balancing between the gap. "I said, I might vomit if I have to look at any of you ugly assholes for more than five minutes."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You know what, I think I <em>would</em> leave if I were you, Craig. Or else I might just have to beat the mommy issues out of you."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig had been fed up all week, and the mommy issue comment was the icing on top of the cake. Before he knew it, he had already turned around and socked the North Park guy in the face.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy stumbled back, reaching up to feel the blood dripping from his nose. He took one look at the blood on his fingers, and back at Craig, gritting his teeth. "You fucking bitch."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He lunged forward and swung, but Craig dodged the hit by moving to the side just in time. Now angrier than before, the jock lunged forward again, this time without missing.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was a good punch when he aimed right, and Craig's forming black eye could vouch for that.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig stumbled back as the jock swung again, missing. Craig delivered a quick blow to the boys chest, which only resulted in him shoving the raven haired boy onto the pool table with full strength.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The North Park boy grabbed the pool stick and pointed it at his contender. "You're lucky I don't shove this stick up your fucking ass, faggot."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You know," Craig sat up weakly, blood dripping down his face with a cigarette still between his teeth. "You sure do talk about my sex life a lot. If you wanna fuck me baby, just say that."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In a fit of rage, the North Park student grabbed something from his pockets quickly, before picking Craig up and shoving him against a wall, trying to choke him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Ironic," Craig said through labored breathing. "I'm usually the one who does the choking."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With one last rush of adrenaline, Craig kneed the boy in the balls, and head-butted him as hard as he could, knocking the other out.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once the North park boy hit the ground, the party erupted with yelling, but Craig's ears were ringing too loud to tell what anyone was saying. It wasn't until he turned around and the room got devastatingly quiet, that Craig begin to worry.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What?" he said, out of breath.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everyone in the crowd remained still, except for Butters Stotch, who awkwardly pointed down at Craig's torso. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig looked down to see a pocket knife, that was wedged into his skin fairly deep. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Huh," he mumbled, feeling himself get lightheaded. "That's not supposed to be there."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn't long before he was out cold on the floor, and police sirens were heard driving through the neighborhood. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Oh fuck that, I'm not going back to jail." Billy said, tossing his shot glasses to the ground and running out the back door. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Paranoid and scared, the other teenagers followed suit and scattered, running out of the house as fast as they could. The house was almost completely empty within two minutes, minus Bebe and Kenny, and a damaged Craig laying limp on the floor.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Shit, I gotta call my mom before the cops do." Bebe ran back upstairs, leaving Kenny alone with Craig, yet again.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Fucking christ." Kenny rolled his eyes and walked over to the bruised idiot.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Get up, you need to go to the hospital."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig opened one eye weakly, peering up at the blonde. "You know, Ken, when you told me you'd see me around, I didn't exactly picture you'd be standing over me with crotchless panties."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. (Tor)mentor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“your head will collapse,<br/>but there's nothing in it,<br/>and you'll ask yourself<br/>where is my mind? “<br/>- City Wolf / Where Is My Mind</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny's face turned bright red at Craig's comment, but thankfully Craig had already passed back out before he could see.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Bebe, come help me pick him up! We gotta take him to the hospital."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No, no way." Bebe shook her head, heels clicking roughly against the wood, as she ran downstairs. "My mom works at the hospital, and she'll kill me if she found out Craig got stabbed at my party."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What are we supposed to do then?" Kenny's voice was beginning to get a little strained, as he held back tears. Sure, it may seem a bit silly to cry over the one person who didn't give a shit about him, but Kenny was not only an empath, but crushing hard on the apathetic jackass. Asshole or not, Craig Tucker didn't deserve to die. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I think my mom has some first aid kits in her closet? Maybe we could use those?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Good idea. Here, help me take him to the couch."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Both blondes struggled to pick Craig up, but eventually made it, only dropping him twice in the process.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Do you know how to remove a knife?" Bebe asked, worried. "Because I don't."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>"No, I never got that far before I died,"</em> Kenny thought sullenly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Not really, but it can't be that hard, right?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bebe raised an eyebrow, and Kenny sighed. "Okay, okay. Uh, look up a youtube video."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Seriously? A youtube video?" Bebe mocked.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Bebe this is serious! Craig could die. Please, just look up a youtube video."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bebe scrolled youtube anxiously for several minutes, as Kenny got increasingly inpatient. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Have you not found anything yet?" he panicked.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No!" she whined. "All these videos are about how to <em>avoid</em> getting stabbed, not what to do when a dumbass actually <em>gets</em> stabbed!"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Fuck, okay," Kenny's heart was beating fast, as he rummaged through the first aid kit. "I think I'm just gonna go for it. I'm just gonna pull it out really fast, and put a bandaid over it."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Doesn't he need stitches or something?" Bebe asked.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I don't know how to do stitches! And we don't have time for that. Just grab a bandaid and have it ready for me when I pull the knife out, okay?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Okay."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny nodded at Bebe, and then back down at an unconscious Craig. "On the count of three. One..two..t-"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What in God's name are you two doing?" Mrs. Stevens busted into the room in hysterics.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Mom, I am so sorry, I swear I didn't mean for this to get out of control, and I didn't drink I promise, and I'm also sorry because I think someone pissed in the flower vase and-"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Does that boy have a knife in his chest?" Mrs. Stevens interrupted, walking over to Craig.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Yes, please help us, I don't know what I'm doing." Kenny cried.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Dear lord, move out my way and help me get him to the car. He needs to go to the hospital."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny and Mrs. Stevens grabbed Craig and carried him out to the car, as Bebe watched nervously from the doorway. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Do you need me to go with you?" she called out, as her mother got Craig inside the car and slammed it shut.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No, I need you to stay here and clean the house. I want every last bit of it cleaned by the time I get home, do you understand me?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bebe nodded quickly and went back inside, as Mrs. Stevens started the car. Kenny sat in the backseat with Craig, shivering from the cold with bare legs.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig's body was laid across the backseat, with his head in Kenny's lap, and the blonde never felt more conflictingly safe and scared at the safe time.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once at the hospital, the nurses made sure Craig was out the car, and safely on the gurney. Kenny began to follow them to Craig's room, but Mrs. Stevens stopped him. "Kenny, I think you need to go home."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"But I-"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>”Kenny.”</em> she said sharply. "Go home. Get some rest."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The revolving doors closed and Kenny watched as Craig faded behind frosted glass. His hair was messy and his makeup was smeared, and all for the wrong reasons. Not to mention he was several miles away from home, all the way on the opposite side of town, and his legs were already numb from the cold.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Figuring he might as well go the easy way out, so he could wake up safely in his bed the next day, Kenny reached into his purse for his <strike><em>(least)</em></strike> favorite get-out-free card. Checking once to make sure the gun was loaded, he quickly put it to his head and pulled the trigger.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">____</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig woke up with a sharp pain throughout his entire body. The light above him was blinding bright, and he didn't recognize the room he was in.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Where am I?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">From the corner of his eye, he saw Thomas Tucker stand up and walk over to his side. "You're in the hospital, Craig."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What for?" he squinted in pain.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"For doing the complete opposite of what you promised me."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I'm in the hospital because I skipped school?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Very funny, wise ass. You got stabbed at the party last night. You promised me you'd stay safe."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Oh, yea." Craig reached down and touched his torso gently, before wincing. "Forgot about that."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You don't really have a choice but to miss school again today, but the doctor said you should be better by tomorrow. And I want you to go. No more parties, either. Please."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig's mouth was dry like cotton, so he nodded. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Craig, promise me. And I want you to mean it this time."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig licked his chapped lips and starred at the ceiling. "Yeah, I promise."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">____</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The next day at school was dreary and slow, but a lot less nerve-wracking than Craig had expected.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course kids gave him funny looks in the hallway, or whispered as he walked by, but no one had directly came up to him and spoke to him about the fight, yet.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even Billy was missing from school today, which wasn't a shocker, but it did leave Craig completely alone. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When the bell rang after forth period, Craig was mentally punching the air, thankful that the school day was halfway over with. As he headed for the cafeteria, Mr. Garrison stopped him again.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Craig, can we talk?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rolling his eyes, Craig stayed behind the rest of the students, and waited near his teacher's desk.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Let me guess, you heard I got stabbed and you're going to say something like <em>'I told you so'</em>?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No," Mr. Garrison drawled, twiddling a pencil between his fingers. "But now that you mention it-- I told you so."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Gee, thanks."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No problem. But that isn't what I wanted to speak to you about. I need you to do me a favor."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"If it's about the college stuff, I'll do it tomorrow. Can I just go to lunch already?" </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"It is about college, but not you. I think getting stabbed is a surefire way of proving you're a lost cause. So, I need your help for someone who isn't."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What do you mean?" Craig quirked an eyebrow and stepped closer.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Kenny McCormick. Exceptional student, and you'd be surprised at how talented he is at art. He likes to draw..women on the tests sometimes..but that's not the point. The point is, he could easily get into any of the colleges you qualified for. But, that's if he passes every class with an above average grade."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Why above average?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Full ride scholarship." Mr. Garrison shrugged, biting the end of his pen. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"So in other words, you think he's poor as shit and can't afford college, and want me to help get him there."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I'm not saying I think he's poor as shit, I'm saying I <em>know</em> he's poor as shit. But aside from you, he’s my smartest student."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What about Kyle Broflovski? He's smart."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Kyle is smart, and that's why he isn't in my class, dumbass. He's in AP courses. I want someone from <em>my</em> class to make it to a fancy college."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig was getting frustrated, and he could mentally hear the lunch bell ticking. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What's in it for me?" </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"The satisfaction of helping another student."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Piss off. Give me a real reason."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Okay fine. I'm trying to win a bet that someone from my class will be top ranking. If I win, I'll split the money with you. Two hundred bucks. And, you can skip my class as much as you want, and I'll never put you down as absent. How's that sound?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig anxiously tapped his fingers on Mr. Garrison's desk, weighing the options. He hated being around Kenny, but he also knew that Garrison wouldn't let him off that easy, and Craig could use a smoke break everyday, plus the money.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Fine. But we aren't doing it here, or in the library. You can tell him to meet me at my house, after school."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mr. Garrison smirked, sticking out his hand for Craig to shake. "Deal."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig glanced down at his teacher's hand, and upon remembering what a creep he was, decided against shaking it. There was no telling where that hand had been an hour prior. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He nodded instead, slinging his bookbag over his shoulder. "Deal."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">_____</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig was walking home from school and listening to music, when he saw the blonde standing outside his door, and nearly panicked.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig snatched his earphones out his ears and stormed over to Kenny, grabbing him by the arm and shoving him inside.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"How long have you been standing out there?" he snapped.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I don't know, an hour?" Kenny shrugged.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Did anyone see you?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"No..? Why?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Because, I told you, I can't be hanging around you."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Then why did you agree to help me? You told me to meet you here.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Because-" Craig paused mid sentence, huffing. "Look, just come inside next time, alright? I can’t risk anyone seeing. If the door's locked, check under the flower pot."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Okay, jeez." Kenny frowned.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig made his way upstairs and Kenny followed behind, feeling nostalgic when he entered his room. Kenny hadn't been in Craig's room since they were eleven, when Kenny tried running away from home for the first time, and Craig's house was the safest place to go at the time.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig had slept on the floor that night, and gave Kenny his bed, because he said he was sure Kenny had "never slept on anything but a box spring before". Kenny spent the entire night staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on Craig's ceiling.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Comfort washed over him as he entered the room seven years later, and realized they were still there. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"So, uh, what subject do you want to study first?" Craig’s voice was monotone, and he already seemed bored.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Science maybe? You're pretty good at that, if I remember correctly. And I suck at it."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Alright," Craig tossed the book down on the bed, before patting the spot next to him, for Kenny to sit down. "Science it is."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The two spent the next few hours studying together, but it went a lot less exciting than Kenny had hoped for. There was no romantic tension, no flirty hand touching, no BJs mid lesson. Just prolonged paragraph reading, while Craig became more and more irritated the less Kenny understood something.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You're doing it wrong, you're supposed to follow the graph this way and-"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny eventually burst into tears, which Craig deemed a rightful time to end the lesson.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Okay, so science definitely isn't your strong suit." he said, exasperated. He stood up to put away the science book, but felt a twinge of guilt as he watched the blonde cry.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sighing, he sat back down next to Kenny, and awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. "Look man, it's not a big deal, alright? We'll try again next week. Stop being such a baby."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny looked up at Craig with red eyes and a red nose, and he couldn't tell it was snot or tears on the blonde’s face. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What if I still suck at it again next week too, though? And then I can't get into college?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“If you’re dumb enough to fail this shit again, you’ll be lucky to pass high school.” Craig snorted, laughing at the blonde.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Kenny glared at Craig, eyes narrowing at his mocking tone.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Craig stopped laughing and returned to his blank expression, coughing awkwardly. “Just kidding.”</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, well I’m not.” Kenny whined. “This is really important to me. If I can’t pass science, I’ll never get into college. And if I never go to college, then how can I be the prettiest person <em>at</em> college?”</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Great plan you got there, bimbo. There’s no way <em>that </em>could ever fall through.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny pouted again, and Craig sighed.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine. How about this? We can do the whole tutoring thing twice a week, instead of once a week. It'll help you learn quicker."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Craig, you'd do that for me?" Kenny awed, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To be completely honest, Craig just wanted to win the money. The quicker Kenny learned, the quicker Craig got paid. Maybe deep down a part of him enjoyed Kenny bugging the shit out of him too, but whatever that feeling was, it was buried deep down, with no intentions on getting out.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Anything for you, princess." Craig smirked. His tone was a bit condescending and sarcastic, but Kenny was too star-struck by the nickname to realise.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The second Craig said "princess", every rational thought left his brain and went immediately down south.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig could sense the tension in the air once the words left his mouth, so he awkwardly cleared his throat and stood up, hoping that Kenny would as well.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Guess I'll see you in a few days then," Craig murmured, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I'll, uh, walk you out."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once they reached the bottom of the steps and Kenny grabbed for the door, he turned around one more time, to face his new mentor.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Sooo, does this mean we're friends now?"</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Absolutely not."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny bit the inside of his cheek and nodded his head slowly, "Alright, fair enough. No friendship. But I will let Garrison know that you kept your promise, and helped me study."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Thanks."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny opened the door and turned around one last time, smirking. "No problem, Daddy."</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Before the words could even register in Craig's brain, Kenny had already slammed the door shut and left. Was that his way of getting back at Craig for the <em>"princess"</em> thing? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig could physically feel the rush in his head making it's way down, as his face turned bright red. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If that's the game Kenny wanted to play, then Craig would make sure he won. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Wishful Drinking [NSFW-ish]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I'll keep you my dirty little secret,<br/>Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret.”<br/>- The All-American Rejects / Dirty Little Secret</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig trudged through half melted snow, sighing heavily as he reached his front door and swung it open with exhaustion.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was tired of walking everywhere, and if it weren’t for the hospital visit on his mental to-do list, Craig would’ve collapsed on the living room floor right then and there.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Something else caught his eye, however, when he stepped food inside and saw a blonde sitting at the kitchen table.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello?” he called out, walking quickly towards the intruder.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, hey, Craig.” Kenny glanced over his shoulder, looking up at the tall boy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s an aggressive <em>hello.</em>” Kenny replied, with a mouthful of cereal. “Did you forget? You told me to wait inside your house.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig clenched his fists, wanting to snatch the spoon out of the blonde’s mouth. “That’s on days that we study. Today is not a study day. Did you forget that?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I actually came over to talk to you about that. But, you weren’t home yet, so I just let myself in.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yea, I can see that.” Craig scoffed. “I can also see that you’re eating all my groceries for the week, too. Way to go, Goldilocks. Wanna go upstairs and try out the fucking beds next?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny looked up at Craig, quirking a brow.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s a rhetorical question,” Craig retorted</span>
  <span class="s1">. “If you get anywhere near my bed, I’ll fucking kill you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny rolled his eyes and pretended to pout, before putting his dish in the sink and heading to Craig’s room.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Woah, woah, woah, where are you going?” Craig yelled after the blonde.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“To your room? To study? Don’t worry, I won’t touch your bed. <em>‘Murderer’</em> doesn’t sound like it would be good on your college application.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We aren’t studying today.” Craig gripped the edge of the staircase harshly. “I already told you that. I have something to do.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like what?” Kenny tilted his head to the side in amusement and curiosity, as he walked back downstairs. “Can I come?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Craig shook his head. “Absolutely not.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why not?” Kenny whined, following after Craig. “Please take me with you. I don’t feel like going home right now and-“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is that what this is about?” Craig asked accusingly. “It is, isn’t it? Your druggie family is pissing you off, and you don’t want to go home. So for some reason, you chose to come here, of all places, and piss me off instead.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not like that,” Kenny began, but corrected himself when Craig gave him a disbelieving look. “Okay, kinda, but I promise I won’t bother you. Just please don’t make me go home.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You already failed that task,” Craig reached for a set of car keys. “You bother me constantly.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well I promise to keep it to a minimum.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig clenched his jaw shut tightly, glaring at the blonde, as he tried to think of any way to get out of this. It took several minutes of Kenny pouting with faux despair and puppy dog eyes, before the stoic boy gave up. “Fine. Just get in the car.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your car is fixed?” Kenny asked excitedly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nope,” Craig reached for the garage door. “We’re going in my dad’s car. So whatever you do, <em>don’t fuck anything up</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">_____</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is fun.” Kenny said, bouncing a little in his seat. “It’s like we’re going on an adventure.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not an adventure,” Craig deadpanned. “It’s a trip to the hospital. And I don’t want you getting out of the car.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hm.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The car ride was silent again, but only for a few seconds, before Kenny began to sing.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">“We’re goin’ to the hos-pi-tal,</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">and were ridin’ in Craig’s-dad’s-car,</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">and were goin to see Craig’s-sick-mom,</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">who’s probably dying of-cancer, and-“</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kenny.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yea?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please, shut the fuck up.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Frustrated, Craig turned on the radio. “Here, you want music, listen to this.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny did as instructed, listening and nodding along to the radio as he stayed silent, to Craig’s appeasement. When Kenny wasn’t blabbing about nonsense or being a pain in the ass to deal with, Craig did find the blonde cute. Not in a way that he would ever admit to, or claim attraction to, but in a sense that Kenny was far more tolerable when he wasn’t being another one of Craig’s problems.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig pulled into the driveway of Hell’s Pass Hospital, and parked the car around the side of the building. He pulled the keys from the ignition, but then contemplated his decision, when he realised how cold Kenny would be without the car running.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I trust you not to steal my dad’s car if I leave the keys in here?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny’s brain didn’t seem to pick up on the question quick enough, which caused Craig to become disquiet. “Taking that as a no.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So you’re just gonna leave me out here with no heat?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Also, no.” Craig sighed. “I have a feeling that you know how to hot-wire things. So you’re coming inside with me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ooh!” Kenny regained excitement. “Continuing the adventure?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not an adventure, a trip to the hospital.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Still beats staying at home,” Kenny shrugged.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">_____</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The pair headed up to Laura’s floor, receiving odd looks from the nurses at the receptionist desk. Craig felt a bit uncomfortable bringing Kenny with him, but there was no way in hell he trusted the blonde to be left alone.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once the two reached the end of the hall, Craig held his breath as he slowly opened the door. His heart was beating a mile a minute, but his mom hardly looked surprised.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi,” she said slowly and amused, as she looked Kenny up and down. “Are you one of Craig’s friends?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes,” Kenny blurted out, at the same time as Craig responded, “No.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They both exchanged looks quickly, before attempting to correct themselves.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Kenny said, followed with an “I guess,” from Craig.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s complicated.” Craig said awkwardly, clearing his throat. “I’m actually his, uh, tutor.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well whatever you are, I’m just glad you came to see me. I was worried you weren’t going to show up this week.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, concerned.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, it’s not like your father or sister ever do. I was worried you might stop seeing me too. You did tell them I wanted them to visit more, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Truthfully, Craig had yet to bring it up to either of them. He hated the topic, because it always ensured the idea that she was stuck there, or that she was getting worse. All it would do was cause a glooming feeling over a family dinner, that was already awkward to begin with. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So he lied.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They’re just really busy, but I promise they’ll come see you soon.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, tell them to hurry up. I don’t have all the time in the world to be waiting, in case they forgot.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yea, I know.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">_____</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig and Kenny walked back to the car, as Craig did his best to avoid thinking about the event that just took place. His attempt fell through quickly though, when Kenny brought it back up.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know it’s tough to think about, but I promise the pain won’t last forever.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t give a shit.” Craig shrugged it off, with an annoyed tone.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t have to lie to me, I know it’s painful and it’s okay to grieve. And death really isn’t that scary. Your mom will be a lot happier on the other side, than she ever would be sitting in that hospital bed.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yea? And what the fuck do you know about dying? And more so, what makes you think I’m even upset about it?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny opened his mouth to speak, but Craig continued, interrupting him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know what I think? I think it’s <em>you</em> that’s scared of death, and you’re projecting your fears onto me. Because I am completely comfortable with my emotions.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny bit the inside of his cheek, a twisted feeling in his stomach. He wanted to argue back, but felt as if there was no point. He knew that Craig was lying, but there was no way to prove that he was, or to prove how Kenny knew the things that he knew, so instead, he just kept his mouth shut. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So,” Kenny’s voice began to shake a little, but he tried to keep his composure. “What’s next on our adventure?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“For the last time, this isn’t an adventure. You’re lucky I let you stick around this long. I’m taking you home.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just then, Craig’s phone began to buzz, and he pulled it out of his pocket. It was a text from Billy, letting him know that there was another party happening at one of the bigger houses near Stark’s Pond.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you gonna go?” Kenny asked, peering over Craig’s shoulder to read the message.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig locked his phone quickly, shrugging. “I don’t know. Why?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I come?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You really want to come to a party? With me? And Billy?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe not with Billy, but you’re more tolerable. I told you, I really don’t want to go home. Please?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig gripped the steering wheel harshly, biting the inside of his cheek. “Fine. But under one condition. You don’t talk to me, or look in my direction, the entire time. Got it?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Got it.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then we have a deal, I guess.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">_____</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As Craig began approaching the party, he parked on the side of the road, about half a mile away from it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Get out.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I said, get out.” Craig ordered. “I can’t have anyone seeing you get out the car with me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Seriously?” Kenny asked bitterly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Seriously.” Craig reached over, unlocking the door for Kenny and pushing it open. The way his arm rubbed against Kenny’s leg sent electricity throughout the blonde’s entire body, but he was too mad to be horny.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine.” Kenny stepped out the car, slamming the door shut behind him, as Craig drove off quickly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Asshole!” Kenny yelled out, but Craig was already miles down the road.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig pulled into the driveway, which was already packed full of cars. As much as he hated parties, they had become a sizeable distraction from the rest of his problems.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He walked inside and immediately spotted Billy, with his signature shot glasses in hand.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” Craig walked over to his friend, almost out of breath. “Hand me some of those.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, is Tucker gonna finally take my advice and get laid tonight?” Billy asked enthusiastically, handing two shot glasses over to the raven haired boy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Without hesitation, Craig downed both shots in a matter of seconds. “They’re not for some twink, they’re for me.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Before Billy could complain, Craig headed for the living room, sitting down next to Scott Malkinson.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey Craig, I heard about the fight at Bebe’s party. How’s the black eye feeling?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know Scott, how’s the diabetes going?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Great, how’s the drug addiction going?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How’s being a virgin going?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How’s your dying mom doing?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The silence and tension was awkward after the words left Scott’s mouth. “Sorry. Too far?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig sighed and leaned back in the chair, shrugging as he pulled his chullo hat over his eyes. “Nah. I don’t really give a shit.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I really am sorry,” Scott said sympathetically. “Is she doing alright?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” Craig fumbled in his pockets for a cigarette. “She has cancer, so I’m gonna guess no.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right, right.” Scott nodded.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig could feel himself becoming lightheaded, but assumed it was just the loud noise and lights, so he kept his eyes closed. That was, of course, until Scott made a whistling sound as the front door opened.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Curious, Craig lifted his hat, and with one eye open, took a peek at the blonde who just walked in. Wait, was that Kenny?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was hard to tell from the congested dizzy feeling that was taking over Craig’s brain, but it was even harder to tell considering the blonde looked nothing like he did when Craig had dropped him off.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny had let his hair down, which was noticeably longer than usual, and he was wearing a skin tight dress that showed off every curve that his petite body owned.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not gay or anything, but Kenny’s kinda hot.” Scott blurted out, looking as if he were about to jizz his pants at any second.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wouldn’t really qualify Kenny as a <em>‘guy’</em>.” Craig mocked. “Kenny’s just... <em>Kenny</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, c’mon, guy or not, you gotta admit Kenny’s attractive.” Scott continued. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig zoned out as Scott droned on about sexuality, because he was far too focused staring at the pretty blonde. He wasn’t sure what it was that made him feel this way all the sudden, but all he could think about was the way Kenny’s lips would look around his cock, and how he probably wasn’t even wearing anything under that dress. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t long before Craig could feel his dick hardening in his pants, painfully pressing against the fabric. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I gotta take a piss.” Craig stood up, interrupting whatever rant Scott had been going on about.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“O-oh, okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig rushed upstairs to the bathroom, hoping to jerk off in peace, but felt like throwing up instead.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stumbled around, looking for the bathroom light, and winced once he found it. The room felt like it was spinning, and every color was brighter and more vivid than before.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He attempted to splash cold water on his face, but he could hardly find the sink, or recognise himself in the mirror. At least now he knew that Billy was putting a lot more than a little “liquid courage” in those drinks.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With unsteady movements, Craig staggered out the bathroom and tried to make his way downstairs. Instead, he ended up in a bedroom somehow, with Kenny laying on the bed, in nothing but Craig’s NASA shirt.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you wearing my shirt?” he mumbled, confused.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because I look cute in it, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yea,” Craig said, his heart beating fast. “I guess you do.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t you wanna fuck me?” Kenny pouted, lifting </span>
  <span class="s1">his shirt up to reveal that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, just like Craig had thought.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I don’t wanna fuck you.” Craig squeezed his eyes shut tightly and shook his head, as he mumbled to himself, <em>“This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.”</em></span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Liar,” Kenny dropped to his knees in front of Craig, hands running over the bulge in Craig’s jeans. “All you ever think about is fucking me. About how much prettier I’d be sucking you off instead of talking, how good my hands would feel around your cock, how easily breakable I am because you’re so much bigger than me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig could feel himself getting harder by the second, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last like this.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just tell me you want me. Please, daddy.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I want you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny unzipped Craig’s pants quickly, wrapping his hand around his tormentor’s dick. “Use me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That was the last thing Craig remembered before he completely blacked out.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">______</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig woke up on the couch the next day, hair matted from sweat, and an uncomfortably wet feeling in his pants. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Unfortunately it didn’t take long before Craig put two and two together, when he realized that the mess in his jeans was far from piss, and despite the erotic night he <em>thought</em> he had, he was still fully clothed.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had a pounding headache, and the room was still spinning a bit. He wanted to get up, but he was afraid if he did he would cover the carpet in puke. He needed to go home, and to rest, but there was no way in hell that he could drive.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Reaching into his back pocket and wearily pulling out his phone, he knew he only had one option if he wanted to get home safe.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had to call Kenny.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Misery Loves Company</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“it’s no surprise to me, I am my own worst enemy,<br/>cause every now and then, I kick the living shit out of me.”<br/>- Lit / My Own Worst Enemy</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig reached for the phone in his back pocket and winced at the screen brightness, groaning at the several missed calls, some of which he knew were from his father.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hesitantly, Craig’s finger hovered over the call button for Kenny’s contact. He never thought he’d stoop so low as to call the clingy blonde, but it was physically impossible for him to drive himself home.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello?” Kenny’s voice was loud and clear on the other end, as he answered on the first ring. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can you do me a favor?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">______</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Despite being on the opposite side of town, Kenny managed to get there pretty fast for someone without a car. Or maybe Craig was just too spaced out to notice any significant time gap.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His eyes were only closed for <em>(what felt like)</em> five minutes, before he was being nudged in the ribs by one of Kenny’s dirty converse.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m awake, stop kicking me.” Craig complained, swatting the blonde’s foot away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you need help up?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” Craig snapped, but then immediately regretted his choice. “Okay, a little.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny grabbed Craig’s arm, and attempted to pull the boy twice his size. “How do you weigh so much?” he whined. “You’re just bones.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Increasingly frustrated by Kenny’s weak attempts, Craig pushed himself off the couch and stood up quickly, gaining a head rush.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, Craig?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did you have a little accident?” Kenny whispered softly, trying to stifle a laugh, as he pointed at the stain on Craig’s jeans.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, it sure as fuck wasn’t on purpose.” Craig snapped, as his face got red.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here,” Kenny slung one of Craig’s arms over his shoulder, as he helped him to the car. “Let’s get you home, jizz boy.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny opened the car door and Craig got inside, hissing in pain as he sat down, legs hitting the dashboard. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry,” Kenny mumbled. He ran around to the other side and got in the driver’s seat, a bit too enthusiastically for Craig’s liking.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Remember this is my dad’s car, McCormick. So don’t go fucking around and crash us. I have enough shit to hear when I get home.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not, jeez.” Kenny frowned, cranking the car. “Put a little trust in me. I showed up, didn’t I?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig rolled his eyes but kept quiet, knowing that Kenny was right. He could’ve easily told him to fuck off, but he didn’t. And for that, Craig was the slightest bit thankful. Kenny might’ve been a nuisance, but at least he was a reliable one.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny managed to drive the car and Craig home safely, without any noticeable damage. When they pulled into the garage, Craig began to worry how he’d explain the situation to his father. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Suddenly, he had an idea. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can you come inside with me?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can you come inside? I kind of need to lie to my dad, and I need you to follow along.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s in it for me?” Kenny asked.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t beat the ever living shit out of you right now, how’s that sound?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, biting his lip. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t actually expect a genuine answer, truthfully. He just liked pissing Craig off.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig got out of the car and stumbled through the garage, with Kenny following right behind him. He pushed the door open with force, almost falling forward, until he caught sight of his father on the couch and forced his legs to keep balance.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” he looked at his father’s tired eyes. “Sorry I’m late.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yea,” Thomas looked up from sipping his coffee, as he pretended to check the time on his nonexistent watch. “You’re about fifteen hours late. Where the hell were you? Did you forget I needed my car for work?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know, I’m sorry. I went over to Kenny’s to help him study, but then his ceiling fan collapsed and hit me on the head. I would’ve been out longer if he didn’t wake me up.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Both Kenny and Thomas looked at Craig dumbfounded, before exchanging looks themselves. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is that true, Kenny?” Thomas asked sceptically. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny looked back and forth between both men, before nodding slowly. “Yep, completely true. You know my house, always... falling apart. Such a dump, right?” he laughed awkwardly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You should probably get someone to fix that,” Thomas raised his cup and stood up. “I have to get to work though. And Craig, do me a favor next time, and tell me before you go somewhere. Especially in my car.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Will do.” Craig held his hand up, with keys dangling from his fingers. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Thomas snatched them up quickly and slammed the door shut behind him, making the blonde jump. Once they heard the engine start and Thomas pulling out of the driveway, Kenny redirected his full attention to Craig.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you fucking serious?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have I ever not been?” Craig asked sarcastically.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you sure you didn’t actually get hit on the head? Because that was the dumbest excuse I’ve ever heard.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, well you try and think of a better plan next time in less than five minutes.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I could, easily.” Kenny scoffed. “But have fun with your fake head injury. I’m going home.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kenny, wait.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Confused and intrigued, the blonde turned around slowly. “What?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wasn’t completely lying about having a head injury. i really do think I hurt myself at the party.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay?” Kenny tilted his head to the side, hoping that Craig would elaborate more.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So, do you think you could stick around until I felt better?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Bingo.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You really want my help?” Kenny’s face turned multiple shades of red.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t make it weird,” Craig scrunched up his nose. “I just.. don’t want to be alone right now, alright? I can hardly take a piss by myself. It’d be nice to have some help today.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then consider yourself helped.” Kenny smiled softly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">______</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For someone who presented himself as a tough, stoic, high tolerance guy, Craig was an unbalanced mess when it came to physical pain and detoxing.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was also stubborn and inpatient when it came to waiting on the tasks he asked Kenny to do.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was most prevalent when he asked Kenny to collect the plate off his nightstand, and bring it back to the kitchen, but the blonde was spending a bit too long in the bathroom.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kenny!” Craig yelled out, irritated. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Upon receiving no response, Craig grumpily tossed the blankets off his body and tried pushing himself off the bed. “Fine,” he mumbled. “I’ll do it myself.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He reached for the plate with shaky hands and a foggy headache, and ended up dropping it on the floor instead. “Shit!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He bent down to pick up the broken pieces, but hissed in pain when he felt a sharp slice against his skin. His eyesight was still hazy from the drugs, but he could faintly see the trail of blood on his hand. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Craig! What the hell?” Kenny rushed into the room, dropping to his knees beside Craig’s bed. “You couldn’t have waited like five more minutes? Jesus.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You were taking too long.” Craig’s slurred his words. He was still groggy from the night before, and waking up from a recent nap didn’t help things either. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know, this is all your fault.” he spoke harshly, squinting his eyes shut tightly as he felt Kenny pull shards of glass from his hand. “I always get hurt when you’re around.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yea, and I’m also the only person who helps when you get hurt, too. In case you forgot.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig opened his eyes and stared down the blonde, realising that he did make a fair point.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After cleaning Craig’s hand and bandaging it up, Kenny gathered his things and began to reach for the door.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where are you going?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Home.” Kenny said solemnly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know,” Kenny shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Because I’m tired?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then let’s take a nap.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny looked up quickly, searching Craig’s face for any sign of sarcasm, but it was undetected. “Like, together? In your bed?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yea, is that a problem?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, no. But I thought you said you’d kill me if I ever touched your bed?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, maybe I changed my mind.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Pretty When You Speak Less [NSFW]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“ hey man I miss your collar bones,<br/>I love the way your skin feels on my collar bones /<br/>can you pay for overtime?<br/>can you pay to keep my secrets safe?”<br/>- McCafferty / Bottom</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tw // (slight?) cnc</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig yawned, stretching out his numb arm, only to realise it’s hitch was being underneath Kenny’s head. Quietly and slowly, he lifted the blonde’s head up, and removed his arm, before rolling over on his back. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His skin was sweaty and his shirt was stuck to his chest. He usually slept in nothing but boxers, but he couldn’t have done that with Kenny around. Or maybe he could’ve, if he wasn’t so worried what the outcome would be. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He heard a door click and lock, signalling that his father was home from work. He froze, afraid that if he breathed loud enough Thomas would come into his room.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The fear in his chest tightened when Kenny began to squirm around in his sleep, mumbling for Craig’s arm, and presence. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Quickly, Craig pulled Kenny closer and slapped a hand over the blonde’s mouth, as Kenny woke up fully in shock.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mph..Mmph! Mhm??” Kenny mumbled through Craig’s hand. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Be quiet.” Craig whispered into Kenny’s ear. “I think my dad’s home.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Annoyed, Kenny grabbed Craig’s wrist and removed the hand from his mouth. “And? Why’s that an issue? You’re afraid he’ll be mad that a <em>“guy”</em> is sleeping in your bed?” he mocked.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know you’re not a <em>guy</em>, but I still can’t let my dad find out. We have this rule. He knows what I like, he just doesn’t want to see it. Private life is supposed to stay private.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So you’re keeping a sleepover a secret?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This isn’t a sleepover, you asshole.” Craig groaned. “Just stay quiet, okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny bit his lip and kept quiet, both waiting until they heard Thomas head downstairs, turning off the hallway light.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s going to sleep. Thank god.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He sleeps in the living room?” Kenny asked.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yea,” Craig shrugged. “He says his room reminds him of my mom. I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s so sad.” Kenny pouted, rolling over and looking at Craig.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s really sad is I almost just got my ass beat.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny rolled his eyes and turned back over on his side, facing the door. He squirmed around a bit more, trying to get comfy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">While squirming around, he accidentally brushed up against Craig’s crotch, making him moan softly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny blushed at the awkward incident, and attempted to stay still. “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Whatever,” Craig mumbled. “Just stop moving.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny knew it would be better to listen and stay put, but he was restless, as well as a brat. Without hesitation, Kenny started moving around again, pretending to get comfy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He could tell from his heavy breathing that Craig was getting increasingly frustrated and hard. So, Kenny pushed back up against him as rough as he could.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Unable to hold back any longer, Craig grabbed Kenny’s hips harshly, burying his face in the smaller ones neck. He bit down, leaving a trail of kisses along the way, and making the blonde whine. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny was startled at the reaction, he never would’ve imagined Craig would give in. But he guessed being horny had a way of changing minds.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Craig..” Kenny whined, grinding against his tormentors hard-on.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roughly, Craig wrapped his hand around Kenny’s throat, pulling him closer as he squeezed tightly. “That’s not what you fucking call me. Try again.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daddy..?” Kenny moaned out in pain, hoping that was the right answer.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Judging by the way Craig attacked his neck with kisses again, Kenny assumed it was.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tell me how bad you want it.” the taller boy demanded.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenny could hardly form a sentence, but Craig was resilient. He tightened his grip on the blonde’s throat. “I said, tell me how bad you want it. You wanna be such a fucking tease all the time, I’m gonna make you beg for my cock.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want it so bad, daddy,” Kenny cried. “Please, please fuck me. I need it so badly.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Craig scoffed. “That’s cute, you actually think I’d ever fuck a worthless whore like you, McCormick? You’re lucky to even have my cock in your mouth, because that’s all you’re fucking getting.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Before Kenny could complain, Craig was already pulling off his pants and forcing Kenny’s head down. Once he had it in his mouth, Craig began fucking the blonde’s throat as hard as he could. He loved the way Kenny would gag, and every time he thought Kenny might puke, he just fucked his throat faster.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It didn’t take long for Kenny’s eyes to start watering, as he slapped at Craig’s thigh and tried pushing away. Every time he fought back or resisted though, the stronger boy would keep him in place, refusing to let him breathe. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m gonna cum, you can go a little longer without breathing.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He fucked Kenny’s throat harder, groaning every time he felt the blonde gag. Soon, he was releasing his entire load down Kenny’s throat, keeping it in his mouth to make sure he swallowed it all. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good job, princess.” Craig said, finally pulling out. “Maybe you’re not completely useless after all.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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